Just Another Day in WarTorn France
by Victif
Summary: In this story, set between series four and five, Michelle has yet another plan to get the airmen back to England, while the General hosts a party at the chateau, causing the Colonel to go into panic-mode to locate the Fallen Madonna with the Big Boobies.
1. Chapter 1

It was yet another lovely day in the village of Nouvion, but the weather was the last thing on the mind of René Artois. There were only 10 minutes until his café opened for the day and he was busy preparing the tables so they were ready for his customers. Or rather, he was busy telling his wife and waitresses how to organise the place.

"Now, Edith, make sure all the tablecloths are on straight and that there are flowers on each table."

"René," Edith started, "I have helped to run this café since the day it opened. I do know how the tables should be set."

"Ah, but Edith, we do tend to become absent-minded as we grow older." Under his breath he added, "And at your age, your mind is completely absent." He was just about to ask Edith where Yvette had gone when the door to the back room opened and she popped her head out and said,

"René, Edith, you are wanted in the back room."

"Oh, I wonder who that'll be," René said sarcastically. He followed Edith into the back room where, not surprisingly, Michelle was waiting for them. "Hello, Michelle, this is a surprise. Do you know that you're the last person I expected to see?"

Edith and Yvette both looked from René to Michelle with baited breath, awaiting her reply to this remark. She let out a long sigh and said, "Do you know what happened to the last person who was sarcastic to me?"

"No."

"Neither did he. Now shut up," she said, mainly to René who was making some very strange sounds indeed, "And listen very carefully, I shall say this only once. I have devised a new plan to get the British airmen back to England. I will bring them here tonight, and will explain the rest of the plan then. I shall now disappear like a phantom to inform the airmen of this plan." With this, she turned on her heel, pulled opened the curtains and exited through the window.

"That girl," complained René. "If there was an award given to the bossiest person in town, she'd get it without a doubt."

The curtains opened again and Michelle, who hadn't yet left, countered, "And if they gave an award to the most irritating person in town, the judges wouldn't even look at the other nominees. They'd take one look at yours and give the award straight to you!" Clearly now in a bad mood, Michelle flung the curtains shut, slammed the window and hurried away.


	2. Chapter 2

One hour later, the café was full with customers, chattering away. These customers included Colonel von Strohm, Lieutenant Gruber and Helga, who were being served by Mimi.

"Now that's three coffees, one black, two white, all with sugar, right?"

"Yes, thank you, Mimi," said the Colonel with a smile. "Could you also please tell René that we would like a word with him?"

"Yes, Colonel," Mimi said and went off to get the coffees and René.

"Good morning, Colonel, and how may I help you today?" asked René with a nervous smile on his face.

"Ah, René, sit down," said the Colonel, gesturing to the empty seat next to Gruber. René sat down before edging the chair away from the Lieutenant who was smiling at him in the way he always did.

"Now, René," the Colonel continued, "I shall get straight to the point. On Friday, the General intends to give a party which is to be attended by all the important people he can think of."

"Not Hitler!" René half-shouted looking shocked.

"Keep your voice down!" reprimanded Helga.

"No, Hitler's not coming, nor is Himmler or Goering, or anyone else like that."

"But there are to be several art experts there," Gruber said. "The General plans to have the Fallen Madonna with the Big Boobies displayed in a prominent position. If any of the art experts notice that it's a forgery, we'll all be sent to the Russian front…" His voice broke off as he remembered the time he had spent there before coming to Nouvion.

"Well, all that needs to be done is for me to give you the original so you can give it to the General," said René, confused as to why the Colonel hadn't simply asked him that in the first place.

"René, it's not that easy," said the Colonel.

"The General has taken the painting to his room at the chateau so that it will safe until Friday," Helga explained.

"You, René, must sneak into the chateau tonight and swap the forgery with the original," the Colonel told René.

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"Come on, René, you've done it before."

"Well, yes, but you see, Colonel, I'm, er, I'm…" René's voice trailed off as he realised that it would be quite stupid to tell the Colonel about a plan involving the British airmen as von Strohm believed that they had left a couple of months ago. René was trying to come up with another excuse to get out of doing the deed when the door of the café opened and in came Captain Bertorelli.

"Colonelo, my friend!" Practically jumping up and down with excitement as he so often did, he came over to the Colonel and gave him the usual kiss on the top of his head. With a grin to the others at the table, he said, "I have-a the orders from the Generaley. We are all to report-a to his office straight away-a."

"Why?" questioned the Lieutenant.

"It doesn't matter why. We must go there immediately," Helga said, standing up.

"Helga's right, Come along, Gruber." The Colonel stood up and looked at René. "Make sure you carry out the orders I've given you," he paused briefly before continuing, "Unless you would like to be shot." Without another word, he left the café, followed by Gruber, Helga and Bertorelli.

With a sigh, René collected up the cups used by the Germans and took them over to the bar where Yvette was standing reading the menu. As René placed the cups down with another sigh, she looked up and said, "René, you sound stressed. What's the Colonel making you do this time?"

"He's insisting that I sneak into the chateau tonight and exchange the forgery of the Fallen Madonna with the Big Boobies with the original."

"But why is he making you do this? I thought the plan was to keep it here until after the war."

"He was, but the General is having some sort of party on Friday night. Attending this party are to be some art experts. The Colonel said that if the experts notice that the painting's a forgery, they will be sent to Russian front. If I don't do what he says, he will…"

"Shoot you," Yvette finished for him. "But what about Michelle and the airmen? They're coming tonight, remember?"

"Yes, but I don't need to be here for that."

"Someone does," Yvette said in a matter-of-fact tone, "Michelle's going to tell us the rest of the plan and you'll need all the help you can get to find and swap the paintings."

"You're right, of course. We must get word to Michelle and tell her to cancel the whole operation."

Yvette sighed and considered whether or not it was a good idea to remind him that Michelle never gave up that easily. She decided it wasn't and instead asked, "René, when are we going to be alone?"

René didn't get a chance to reply because just then the door of the café opened and in walking Officer Crabtree.

"Good moaning," he said as he reached the bar. "I was just pissing by your café when I remomber that I have a massage for you from Michelle."

There was a brief silence as René figured out what Crabtree meant. "Well?"

"She will brong the earmen here at 8 o'click."

After yet another pause René replied, "You can go back and tell Michelle that they can't come tonight. I've been order by the Colonel to do… something… at the chateau tonight that will require the presence of my wife and waitresses."

"Is it anythong to do with Lieutanant Gruber?"

"Definitely not!" René snapped.

"In that cuse, do not weary. It will nit take lung for Michelle to exploon the plin. You can goo to the chiteau later. It will be oosier then as there wint be as many purple arood."

The look across René's face indicated that he hadn't a clue what Crabtree was talking about.

"He means 'It won't take long for Michelle to explain the plan. You can go to the chateau later. It will be easier then as there won't be as many people around,'" Yvette translated.

René, who couldn't come with a reason why this plan wouldn't work, at least to get them to the chateau, instead said, "Well, just tell her that she had better have a good disguise, for both herself and the airmen."

Crabtree smiled and said, "Don't weary. The disgeeses are so gid, you won't recognose them."

"What?"

"'Don't worry. The disguises are so good, you won't recognise them.'"

René still looked puzzled, probably because he believed that there wasn't a disguise in all of France that would work in disguising the airmen. "Thank you, Yvette. Well, Officer, if that's all, will you kindly be on your way? I have many customers to serve," he said in a pleasant tone of voice but with an expression on his face that quite clearly said, "If you valve your life, leave now." Crabtree noticed this, and with a "Good do to you," left the café.


	3. Chapter 3

Meanwhile, at the General's office in the chateau, the Germans were talking about certain arrangements for Friday night's party.

"I've put the arrival time on the invitations as 7pm," Helga told the General, reading from her notepad.

"Good. But did you remember to write the time that the party begins at as half past seven?"

"Well, no," she said hesitantly,

"Why not? Were you not told to?" questioned the General in his usual accusing and intimidating way.

"Yes, General, I know you told me to, but when an invitation says that a function starts at 7:30, people tend to leave it until then to show up," Helga pointed out. Captain Bertorelli, who was listening to the conversation with interest, nodded at this remark in a way that indicated that he had never considered this, but now Helga had mentioned it, he realised that in most cases, it was the truth.

The General, however, being the General, took no such thing into consideration. "Are you saying that German generals would turn up to anything late?"

There was an awkward silence in which the Colonel and Gruber exchanged dubious looks; Helga looked down at the floor so von Klinkerhoffen wouldn't see her mischievous smile and Bertorelli gazed up at the ceiling, humming to disguise his laughter. The General, on the other hand, couldn't see anything wrong with what he'd said.

That was until: "I'm sure Helga wasn't implying anything along those lines. I mean…" the Colonel stammered as Bertorelli and Helga both started choking with laughter, Gruber began to look quite uncomfortable and the General jumped up from where he was sitting behind his desk, grabbed the first object that his hand came across, a very sharp letter opener, and pointed it directly at the Colonel. "I'm sure Helga's got a good reason for not mentioning the starting time. Helga."

Helga gave the Colonel her most venomous look before saying, "Of course I've got a good reason for not doing it."

Everyone stared at her, waiting for what she'd say next. Finally, the General said, "Well?"

"It wouldn't fit," she replied, saying the first thing that came into her mind.

"What?"

"You did tell her to make the invitations so that everything stands out," the Lieutenant reminded von Klinkerhoffen timidly.

"She-a probably did-a this, and then-a realised that-a she had forgotten it. Instead of-a squeezing it in, which-a would of made-a it look untidy, she just-a left it," the Captain explained, clearly making this up as he went along.

There was a silence as the General thought about this. Finally, he looked at Helga and asked, "Is this true?"

"Yes. I didn't want the invitations to look crowded," said Helga, who had her fingers crossed behind her back, hoping the General would believe this.

"Well, in that case, I won't punish you this time," said the General, somewhat reluctantly. Helga let out a quiet, relieved sigh and mouthed the words 'Thank you' to the Lieutenant and the Captain. "Did you ask the café owner to do the catering?" the General continued, turning to the Colonel.

"Er, yes," von Strohm said slowly.

"Good. Did he agree?"

"Yes, of course," said the Colonel, speaking as though this was obvious. However, he felt rather uncomfortable as he hadn't asked René any such thing.

"Good," came von Klinkerhoffen's reply as he began to sift through a pile of papers on his desk. Gruber and Helga both gave the Colonel looks that said 'No, you didn't!' The Colonel first glanced at the General to make sure his attention was diverted, and then mouthed 'I'll do it tomorrow'.

Lieutenant Gruber and Helga exchanged glances. Life was sure complicated as a German in Occupied France. Life was complicated for anyone in Occupied Nouvion.


	4. Chapter 4

It was soon evening and, back at the café, Edith was giving her mother her dinner.

"Onion soup again? Why is it always onion soup?"

"The British airmen were disguised as onion sellers again, so we have a lot of onions that need to be used," Edith explained.

"Airmen?" said Fanny, spitting in her usual way.

"Mama," complained Edith.

"Anyway, that was years ago," Fanny continued.

"Do not exaggerate, Mama. It was not years ago. It was only a couple of weeks ago. Now…" Edith's voice broke off as a loud buzzing noise filled the room and the bed-knobs at the end of Fanny's bed started flashing.

"Ahhh! The flashing knobs!" screamed Fanny as Roger Leclerc sat up from where he had been hiding under the covers.

"It's London!" René exclaimed; rushing into the room with Mimi as Fanny pushed Leclerc back under the bedclothes. "Quick, help me lift the bed," he told Edith as Mimi pulled the speaker (disguised as the chamber pot) out from under the bed.

"Allo, Allo, Nighthawk, are you receiving me?" the voice asked.

"Allo, Allo, this is Nighthawk, receiving you loud and… fairly clear. Pass your message."

"Has Bluetit arranged the concert for the musicians? Has Blue…"

"Shut up! We're looking it up," snapped René, watching Edith look in the codebook.

"It means 'Has Michelle told you about the latest plan yet?'" Edith translated. She took the microphone from her husband and began searching in the codebook for the reply, but before she could find it, René snatched the microphone back and said,

"No, she's going to tonight."

"Use the code, Nighthawk," admonished London.

"Look, I'm about to open. I haven't the time!" René snapped back, turning off the radio.

"That's the way to tell them. Stupid foreigners!" said Fanny, spitting once more.

"Shut up!" said René, kicking the tins used to hold the bed up, so that the bed fell down quite suddenly. Ignoring Fanny's complaints, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.


	5. Chapter 5

The café was shortly filled with people. There was plenty of laughter and chatter; everyone was having a good time, but René's thoughts were occupied with worries about what disguises Michelle would have for herself and the British airmen.

"What time is it?" asked Yvette, coming over to the bar with a tray of empty glasses.

"10 to 8," René replied with a glance at his watch.

"Do you really think that no one will recognise them?" Yvette asked him, sounding as though she seriously doubted this.

"Well, Michelle might not be. She has had some rather convincing disguises in the past. She's also had some quite ridiculous ones as well," he added as an after thought, "but usually she can disguise herself quite well."

"It's those stupid British airmen I'm worried about," Yvette said, looking curiously at René because he had just paid Michelle a compliment. "I mean, they can't speak a word of French."

"I know," René said with a sigh.

Just then, the door of the café opened and in walked a tall man dressed in a black suit, boots and hat. A striking woman with red hair who was wearing a green silk dress accompanied him. This woman took a quick glance around the café before heading over to the bar and asked in a faintly accented voice, "Do you mind if we perform a song to your customers here tonight?"

René, who wasn't the type of person who usually let strangers perform in his café, looked around. The majority of the male customers were watching this woman intently, those who weren't had been until their female companions had told them off for doing so. Thinking that it might be good for business, he said, "Alright, then, but one song only, okay?"

"Thank you, monsieur, we will," she said with a smile, turning and walking over to the piano where her companion was already seated.

Yvette, who was still standing at the bar, glanced at René's watch and said, "It's almost eight. They should be here soon." René nodded absent-mindedly, as he too, was busy staring at the mysterious woman. Yvette noticed this, and was thinking about how to get him into the back room, when the woman began to sing (_There'll Be Bluebirds Over) The White Cliffs Of Dover_.

"There'll be bluebirds over the white cliffs of Dover  
>Tomorrow, just you wait and see<br>there'll be love and laughter and peace ever after  
>tomorrow when the world is free<p>

(The shepherd will tend his sheep)  
>(The valley will bloom again)<br>And Jimmy will go to sleep  
>in his own little room again<p>

There'll be bluebirds over the white cliffs of Dover  
>Tomorrow, just you wait and see<p>

There'll be bluebirds over the white cliffs of Dover  
>Tomorrow, just you wait…and see."<p>

The woman certainly could sing, and the customers enjoyed the change from listening to someone who sounded as though her voice had decided to go on an African safari. Once the song was finished, everyone in the café burst into applause. All except Edith that is who had come in from the kitchen at the beginning of the song and was standing at the end of the bar; looking jealous at the amount of applause the woman was receiving.

After a few curtsies and polite 'Thank yous', the woman came over to the bar again, this time with the man.

"You can sing very well," complimented René. "Almost as well as my wife," he added hurriedly, after Edith gave him a furious look.

"Thank you, monsieur," she said, looking around the room nervously. Suddenly, she lowered her voice and dropped her accent and said, "It is I, Michelle."

René's, Edith's and Yvette's mouths dropped in perfect unison. "WHAT?"

"Keep your voices din!" snapped the man, revealing his identity immediately.

"Weren't you supposed to be bringing those stupid, idiot airmen?" René asked once he had recovered from the surprise.

"One, just because they don't speak French doesn't mean they're idiots. They aren't anymore stupid than you are. And two," Michelle continued over René, who was trying to defend himself, "Crabtree and I were just a distraction. Whilst we were performing that song, Henriette has brought the airmen into your back room." Raising her voice again, she slipped back into the accent she'd been using and said, "now, monsieur, could you please show us to a private room?"

René gave Michelle and Crabtree a poisonous look. He dearly wanted to refuse them, because he had had enough of their shenanigans to last him a lifetime. But, he had his café's reputation on the line, he reluctantly agreed. "Come on, then," he said, leading them into the back room. Edith, Yvette and Mimi, who had joined at the bar to see what was going on, followed them. (The only reason Mimi hadn't joined them earlier was that she had been talking to some of the customers.)

Waiting for them in the back room were Fairfax, Carstairs and Henriette. Henriette was flicking through a book that she had taken off the shelf. Fairfax and Carstairs were looking around the room in their usual vague manner. As René entered, he gave Henriette quite a nasty look, causing her to hastily put the book back on the shelf.

"Everybody here?" asked Michelle, with a quick look around the now rather cramped room. "Good." She went over to the airmen and, quickly changing from French to English, she said, "Hello, chaps. Everything tickety-boo?"

"Well, not really, old girl. We've been here for ages and we often wonder whether you've forgotten us. When are you going to send us back to England?" asked Carstairs.

"Sorry about the delay. Important Jerry plans needed foiling. Don't you like France?"

"Well, there are some good things about it," Fairfax said slowly, his eyes drifting over Michelle's figure, causing her to blush. "But, on the whole, I can't say I like it."

"_We_ like it," Carstairs corrected.

"We. The food's horrible and no one speaks English apart from you and Crabtree and neither of you is ever around," he complained, Carstairs nodding in agreement.

"Not to worry chaps. I've come up with a brand-new plan to get you back to England. I'm just about to explain it to everyone."

"Just a minute," Fairfax said, spotting the flaw in the plan. "How can you tell everyone about it when we don't all speak the same language?"

Michelle opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, René said, "Are you going to tell us this plan or not? I do have a business to run, you know."

"I'm just telling them that I'll tell you the plan in French and Crabtree will translate it into English for the airmen," Michelle told René, before repeating this in English for the airmen. "Okay, now listen very carefully; I shall say this only once. I have decided that the best way to get the airmen back to England is for them to go back in a submarine. For this, however, they will have to get to the coast."

"But, Michelle," interrupted Edith, "the coast is out-of-bounds since those three airmen escaped from the Prisoner of War camp and tried to escape via the coast."

"Which airmen?" asked René, who had been too busy keeping the affairs that he was having with his waitresses a secret from his wife to pay attention to the local news.

"You remember, the three that dressed up as nuns," said Edith.

"Well, I'm not surprised that they couldn't disguise themselves properly. I've never met any airmen that could," René replied, glancing at Fairfax and Carstairs. Thinking that he was talking to them, Fairfax turned to Carstairs and asked,

"What's he going on about?"

"I don't know; I don't speak a word of the language."

"Don't worry about it chaps," Michelle told them before turning to René and asking, "are you done? I've got a train to blow up at half past nine."

"Well, that's typical of you, isn't it? You're always blowing up trains." To Edith, he said, "Hurry up. That idiot Leclerc is in charge of the till and I want to get back before he takes all the money. You were saying about the airmen dressing up as nuns?"

"Well, the disguises were actually quite good, for a change. They would have escaped, but a couple German guards tried to pick them up. They were recognised as being airmen when one of the guards kissed one of them."

"It's nice to know that the Germans are living up to their expectations. Well, Michelle, if you are going to tell us this plan, get on with it."

"As Madame Edith as pointed out, we can't have the airmen leaving by the coast, so instead, they'll leave at Calais."

"Calais?" Yvette exclaimed. "But how are they going to get there? There are many checkpoints along the way where all vehicles are checked. And they can't walk the whole way."

"That is the cunning part. All vehicles are checked _except German tanks_."

"You're mad. Where are _we_ going to get a German tank from?" René asked incredulously.

"You are a close friend of Lieutenant Gruber. You can borrow his," said Michelle, making it sound like the easiest thing in the world.

"What am I supposed to say? 'Hello, Lieutenant. I was just wondering if I could borrow your little tank. Why? Oh, I just want to go on a sightseeing tour to Calais and I though your tank would be the perfect vehicle to take me there'," René said sarcastically.

"Not a bad idea," mused Michelle, oblivious to the look of amazement on René's face. "But I thought that as his birthday is coming up…"

"How do you know that?" asked, not just René, but also Edith, Yvette, Mimi and Crabtree, although in Crabtree's was more like, "How do you knee that?"

"When you're the leader of the Resistance, you know almost everything," Henriette explained.

"As I was saying," said Michelle in a louder tone, "It's Lieutenant Gruber's birthday soon and I thought that you could ask to borrow his tank in order to give it a whole new make-over for the occasion. Then you could take the airmen to the coast, bring the tank back, fix it up and give it back to Lieutenant Gruber. He'll never know the difference."

"What a ridiculous plan," René said.

"I thought it was quite a good plan, actually," said Edith. "I can't see anything going wrong."

"Well, if you mean apart from us being arrested for driving a German tank and helping British airmen to escape, both of which we can be shot for, I suppose you're right." René said. Edith smiled until she realised what he had said.

"Look, if you aren't willing to help, I can always give Lieutenant Gruber another birthday present," Michelle said sharply.

"What?" René asked cautiously.

"I can tell him whose been hiding the British airmen all this time."

"You wouldn't dare," said René, sounding unsure.

"Oh yes, she would," replied Crabtree, Henriette, Edith, Yvette and Mimi.

Michelle gave René a withering look but didn't say anything. However, the silence was more effective than anything she could have said. Finally, René sighed and said, "Well, like usual, it seems that I have no alternative."

"Good," Michelle said with a smile. "I'll come around again soon to see how you're getting on. Now…" Turning to Henriette, she said, "Henriette, could you please take the airmen back to the police station?" Henriette nodded, and motioning for Fairfax and Carstairs to follow her, they left via the window. Michelle watched them leave, before turning to René and, slipping back into the accent she had assumed as part of her disguise, she asked, "Could Crabtree and I have the Soup of the Day, that suit you, Crabtree?"

"Yes, think you niecely," Crabtree replied with a smile.

Rolling his eyes, René said to his wife and waitresses, "Come on, girls," and left the room.


	6. Chapter 6

Meanwhile, at Herr Flick's Secret Gestapo Headquarters, Herr Flick was reading a letter from his godfather, Heinrich Himmler, as von Smallhausen looked on.

"Well," von Smallhausen said as Herr Flick finished reading and folded up the letter, putting it back in the envelope, "What does he say?"

"None of your business," Herr Flick snapped, hitting him on the head with his stick. At that moment, there was a loud knock on the door. "Ah," said Herr Flick, looking at his watch, "That will be Helga."

Limping over to the door, he opened it to reveal Helga. "You are late."

"I'm sorry, Herr Flick. I stopped by the Café to listen to the cabaret."

"You did what?" Herr Flick and von Smallhausen exclaimed in unison, looking at her with identical expressions of amazement (and almost horror) across their faces. "You stopped to listen to Madame Edith sing?" Herr Flick continued.

"No, she wasn't singing. They had some foreign woman who could actually sing in her place," Helga replied, walking over to Herr Flick's desk and taking a seat.

"Oh well that explains it. Do you have anymore news regarding the party the General is holding at the chateau?"

"Yes, Herr Flick, I do. The General is planning to have the painting of the Fallen Madonna with the Big Boobies by van Clomp displayed because there will be several art experts there, Because it's a forgery, the Colonel has ordered René from the Café to swap the forgery with the original tonight so that he won't be sent to the Russian Front," Helga expounded.

"Good work, Helga. You have done your snooping well," said Herr Flick, sounding somewhat impressed.

"It's because you've got such hypnotising eyes," Helga replied with a smile.

"My sharp Gestapo mind is already formulating yet another daring and sly plan," Herr Flick continued, hardly noticing what Helga had said. "Tonight, after René has swapped the paintings, von Smallhausen and I will sneak into the chateau and the swap the original with another forgery that we have."

"How will you get into the chateau?" asked Helga, wondering whether she would be sent to the Russian Front if the Colonel, Gruber and Bertorelli were. She wasn't too worried about them, but she had no intention of going there herself.

"We shall disguise ourselves as guards, two who are the closest to the General. We'll be allowed into the General's very quarters, which will be when we will swap the paintings." Herr Flick paused, looking at Helga with a smile that almost scared her. "Of course, I will now lock you in here until we return so you can't go and tell the Colonel about my plan."

"Of course," Helga said, quite used to Herr Flick's mannerisms by now. She wasn't particularly worried, since the last time she'd been locked in the Gestapo Headquarters, she had managed to escape. Helga was sure that since she'd done it once before, she could quite easily do it again.

Or so she thought. "You are probably thinking that you will be able to escape like you did the last time," continued Herr Flick. "You are wrong. Since the last time, when you so craftily managed to escape by picking the lock with a hair pin removed with your toes, I have ordered some Gestapo locks, which are particularly complex in design, and cannot be unlocked by mere hair pins." With an evil, triumphant smile, he dramatically pulled a couple of sturdy-looking locks and chains from his desk drawer and proceeded to lock Helga's wrists to the arms of the chair she was sitting in.

"I wouldn't dream of escaping," said Helga, watching Herr Flick. "Don't you trust me?"

"No," said Herr Flick, snapping shut the final lock.

"I do," said von Smallhausen with his usual sinister smile, sliding up besides Helga.

"Shut up," was Flick's reply, hitting von Smallhausen once more with his stick. Turning back to Helga, he continued, "We are going now to obtain uniforms for tonight. When we return after successfully retrieving the portrait of the Fallen Madonna with the Big Boobies by Van Clomp, we will have a romantic dinner to celebrate."

Helga was marvelling at how Herr Flick was so sure that he would succeed, considering the plan sounded pretty risky, when von Smallhausen spoke, interrupting her thoughts.

"Oh, thank you, Herr Flick. It's very kind of you to invite me to dinner."

Herr Flick and Helga exchanged glances, rolling their eyes, before Flick picked up his hat from the desk and, turning to Helga, he smiled and said, "Don't go away."

Helga slumped back in her chair, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"Why do I bother?" she couldn't help but wonder.


End file.
